


Same Time Tomorrow

by oneatatime



Series: In any world, you're still my best friend (((standalone stories set in same universe))) [1]
Category: Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6383368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the first time Alain and Makoto trained together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Time Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butyoumight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/gifts).



> Pre-series, a little AU, will probably get jossed along the way.

Aneue - Alia - was probably quite accustomed to it by now. She'd eaten with both of the humans multiple times.

Alain, on the other hand, found himself both horrified and fascinated by the way Fukami Makoto near inhaled food. He wasn't making a mess, but it was still so unapologetically _biological._ Alain had eaten before, himself, of course. They had family meals at times. The bodies they all wore required some sustenance, occasionally. But none of them really needed to eat, not in the same way as the humans. 

Fukami Makoto had just taken out a small bag with food in it, after they'd sparred, and he'd popped a fingerful of something into his mouth.

Alain eyed him with fascination. 

Fukami Makoto had seemed reasonably opaque to him as they'd fought. Eyes dark, hands moving fast, striking just hard enough to be interesting, but just gently enough to be on the right side of insubordination. But now, after the fight, in complete defiance of protocol, he'd sat himself down on a seat at the side and was eating. Completely ignoring Alain.

"Do you want some?" 

...not entirely ignoring him. 

"Does it hurt?" Alain blurted. He sighed at himself, and folded his arms. "No, I do not. I don't require food in the same way as you. Slave to your biology." 

Fukami Makoto looked up at him, irritation flashing in his eyes as no one else dared look irritated at him. Then replaced by.... amusement. Almost............ affection? No. No one showed him that kind of openness. He knew, and trusted, that aneue loved him. The same for his father. But the two of them always had so much going on under the surface. So many layers, so many filters. 

This human seemed different. 

Why hadn't Alain left the training room already? 

"You have an actual body somewhere," Fukami Makoto pointed out. "No, it doesn't hurt to eat. Hurts if I don't. This food isn't like what I'm used to, but it doesn't give me stomachaches."

He took out another fingerful of the food. Dark purplish flakes. Ah. Must be something that the technicians had found to suit the humans. Possibly from those berries that some of the younger Ganma seemed to pretend to like eating (as if one could truly like eating when one didn't need to). Alain found himself fascinated with the way the human's mouth worked as he chewed and swallowed. He was neat enough about it, at least. His mouth stayed closed, and he didn't leave scraps of the food all over his face. That wasn't right for humans, was it? They were too young to have any kind of manners? Perhaps aneue had managed to instil manners in both of them before allowing them out. Hm. 

...why was Alain sitting next to him? 

"I suppose that's good."

"It's my only option. Eat or take a Ganma body." 

There was the smallest of bruises on Fukami Makoto's cheekbone. Alain wondered, fascinated, what it felt like. He felt pain and discomfort in his current body; it was the body's way of telling its controller when it was in danger. But it couldn't be the same. 

Must be much worse to have a body like Fukami Makoto had. 

"Ah," was all he managed to think of to say. Which was suddenly annoying. He wanted the other to stay around and continue to be interesting and mildly revolting, but he had nearly finished his food. 

Fukami Makoto upended the small bag into his mouth and shook it, then consumed the few small flakes that fell from it. He gave Alain a look as if he were expecting something else. Alain didn't speak - why should he, after all? This was his home, not Fukami Makoto's. He wasn't the interloper. He wasn't obliged to be entertaining. 

Fukami Makoto stood, and inclined his head briefly. As if to an equal. Not to a prince. 

By the time Alain had managed to stand and find an outraged look, Fukami Makoto's, "Same time tomorrow," hung in the air and he was already out of sight. 

Hmph!


End file.
